The Jason Memoirs
by TheTomFox
Summary: The legendary Jason Kenway, half-brother to the great Connor Kenway, has a deep secret. His origins have always been a mystery, but his beginnings are now revealed to the world. These are level 5 security clearance files straight from the classified section of the Abstergo database. You have been warned. This is where it all began...
1. Chapter 1

I

The Frontier, America - 1755

My life changed the day I found that artefact. The one in the form of a snake. It influenced my whole life, never leaving me. Like a shadow it followed me everywhere, a constant reminder. I remember the day I stumbled upon it like it happened only moments ago. Me, my friends and my half-brother Ratonhnhaké:ton, the one who would one day be the legendary assassin Connor Kenway, were playing hide-and-seek in the valley. That would be the last time I saw Connor for many years. I did not know it at the time, but as my destiny changed, so too did his. As I found that thing, the snake, my half-brother was being threatened and beaten by Charles Lee. Both our destinies changed from that of a simple villager's life to becoming deadly assassins. The object was a curious thing. I admit it still is for me. I went to my favourite hiding spot; no-one ever thought to look for me there. As I crouched behind a tree, I slipped and fell to the ground. In the disturbance of the leaves, I noticed a faint glowing, something emanating. I never thought about it at the time, but now part of me feels as though it _wanted_ to be found. Curious, I brushed the leaves off, but still there was nothing but that infernal glow. Furious at finding nothing, I dug into the dirt, splitting one finger nail in the process. I was too angry to even notice, let alone care. Finally, as I pulled a handful of rock-solid dirt out of the way, I saw what I was looking for: A strange glowing curve of golden scales. I pushed more dirt out of the way, finally uncovering a golden snake, no bigger than my hand, glowing golden in the muddy dirt. The snake was curled in a figure of eight and looked as though it was trapped in the motion of biting its own tail. I reached for it, but I swear I heard it hiss and images flashed through my mind. Strange hooded men, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, colossal structure of wood throwing fire at one another in the great sea, strange mechanisms that released a blade with a flick of the wrist, a native like myself wearing hooded robes of mud brown with no sleeves, he had a black tattoo of a snake wrapped around his arm. The snake. My vision slowly returned. The images had faded, but I still saw that black snake coiled around an arm. When that had gone, I was left alone in the woods with the golden snake that had shown me the visions. I had no idea how much time had passed. Closing my eyes, I reached for the golden snake. Nervous, I inched my eyes open slightly as my hand got closer and when my fingertips brushed against its scales, it leapt onto my arm! I felt my arm go numb and no matter how matter how much I shuck my arms, it wouldn't let go. It had latched on. I felt it bite into me and slowly it absorbed into my arm. In its place was an ink version of the snake, winding down my arm, its mouth gaping in the palm of my hand. At this moment, everything changed for me. My body became more sensitive to touch. I could feel each, individual leaf brush over my toes in the light autumn breeze. I could hear the crunch of leaves being trampled far in the distance. I could even see every little detail in the bark of the tree next to me, every little crack or dent in the bark and all manner of small creatures who made that tree their home. I could smell the waste of wild animals, miles away. All of my senses were increased to an in-human level. I knew what my village would do if I ever went back. I would be branded a freak and cast out into exile. So rather than go back and face the shame, I ran away from my village, out of the valley that we were forbidden to leave.

* * *

I spent days surviving in the wild. Being too young to hunt food, I stole food from shops in small settlements dotted around the great forests. I spent my nights camping in caves and beneath bales of hay in settlement stables. It was in this time of surviving that I noticed my body changing. I was getting bigger, stronger and faster. Any scratches I received would heal almost instantly, the old, dead skin peeling away. I saw things differently too. I could see heat. Whenever I saw something warm, if I focused my sense, it would appear red. If I saw something cold and focused my senses, it appeared blue. It made tracking easier and when I taught myself to hunt, it made tracking the animals and setting up traps easier. For years I roamed from town to town, hunting animals and using them for food in the wild and selling the furs in the towns. Soon I had acquired quite a bit of metal pieces, coins the people called them. I understood that they were used in trading, and I used them to buy myself some clothing to better 'fit in' with the strangers of our land. The ones who could throw fire from their hands.

Soon, I came across a massive town of people, which I believed they called a city. It was a coastal city, but I wasn't in possession of such knowledge at the time. I found that I could trade a large amount of my metal pieces in return for passage across what I thought was a large lake. Later in life, I learned that this was the Atlantic Ocean. Seeking to escape my past, I accepted the trade and spent many months on an odd wooden structure that used wind to pull itself along the water. A 'ship' I later learned that it was called. On-board this 'ship' I learned how to handle a small blade; a dagger. The crew would often fight on the main 'deck,' out in the open air. They would fight with bare fists or sometimes with daggers. Most times it was for sport and 'gambling.' Sometimes it was because of a disagreement. And so the crew taught me to fight with fist and dagger, and I took to the art of it like a fish to water. I became something of a favourite when gambling was concerned. I was always more than happy to gamble with them. Even on things other than fights, such as dice games. Once I had learnt the rules and how to play, it became easy. I could see the sweat trickling down their face, I could smell the stench of their breathing as it became faster and I could hear their heartbeat increase its pace. All signs that they were becoming nervous. All I had to do was know when to place a bet or when to call it a day. A disadvantage of my new-found powers, however, was that my ultra-sensitivity amplified the rocking of the ship on the waves, making me very light headed and eventually sea-sick. Finally, after many months on the water and much being sick and stumbling around because of the gentle rocking of the structure, we arrived at a very busy looking new land. 'England' the sailors called it. I'll admit, it was very intimidating. Huts made of perfect cuboid stones called bricks and held together by some mysterious material. I had seen bricks before in the small frontier towns, but they were used sparingly. I had also seen them before in the coastal town, but I had been too focused on the great body of water that stretched as far as the eye could see. People walking in every direction, filling the 'streets.' Smoke rising from stacks of bricks with no fire in sight. Even the smells of this land was different to that of my former home. This place smelled far less natural, filled with more smoke and the smell of man than the smells of nature. This seemed like such a magical land, full of hope and promise. But everyone gave me looks of mild interest or just outright disgust. I never understood it at the time, but now I know it was because of who I am. Because of the colour of my skin. Because I was a creature of a land none of them had seen. But some of them saw an opportunity in me. I was young and very inexperienced but I had one value that interested them. I was cheap labour. And so, within my first day on this new land, before I had even found a place to take shelter at night, I had found myself a job in this new and strange place. Perhaps this place would make a nice place to replace the home I had lost. Just the thought of that made me sad. It reminded me of all I had lost for so little gain. It reminded me of all I had lost just to get here. I had lost family, friends and my home. Now I was in an unfamiliar place, perhaps further than any of us had gone before with no-where to take shelter and no experience of how to survive in this land. There were no great trees or roaming elk. Just large buildings of bricks, wood and stone. Past that there was miles of fields, but not an abundance of wild animals. Hunting would not be an option here, I'd have to buy or steal food here to survive. Maybe this job could be my saving grace.

But there was something I never counted on when I arrived in England: the kindness of strangers. As my first night in this strange land went terribly due to the pouring rain, an old woman passed me on the street and, seeing me slumped in an alley and soaked to the bone, she took pity on me and told me to follow her to her home and get dry there. Against my better judgement, I followed the old woman. At first I was adamant that I would stick it out through this weather, but the wet, the cold and the weariness weakened my resolve and I gave in, following her home. When we arrived at her home, she described it as little more than a shack. For me, it was the largest house I'd ever seen at the time. It was a four room house on one floor. As you walked in, your entered the living quarters, with a fireplace and a couple of old and battered chairs occupying the majority of the small room. A metal contraption holding a large metal pot over the fire was on the fireplace, presumably for cooking stews and other meals. From that room, two doorways led off to different rooms. To the right was a small bedroom with barely enough space to fit the small rotting bed and set of drawers next to it. On the drawers was a small oil lamp for light should she need to get up in the middle of the night. Over the window looking out to the streets, instead of curtains was a collection of the woman's clothes, hanging up. From the other door in the living room was the kitchen. The kitchen was basic with only the bare essentials of cooking in the room. Leading off from the kitchen was the fourth room, the pantry. Here, she stored whatever food would stay fresh for a while, ready to be cooked before it became complete un-edible. She laid out a thin piece of cloth as a blanket on the floor in the living room, near to the fire and said that that is where I could sleep. She also brought out some old clothes, stating that they used to belong to her son and told me to put them on and leave my clothes near the fire to dry. I went into the bedroom to change and when I emerge, she was facing away from me, stirring the pot hanging over the fire. As I took a few more timid steps, she turned around from her task and assessed how I looked in the clothes.

"Ooh." She said "Don't you look like the gentleman."

She hobbled over to me and brushed dust or dirt off the shoulders of the clothing. She told me I could keep them and that I was more than welcome to stay here. I agreed and as she requested, I went into the kitchen to chop vegetables for the bubbling stew she was making. As I cut the vegetables, the aroma of the stew wafted into the kitchen and my stomach rumbled audibly. I was definitely hunger. I'm not ashamed to say that when the stew was done and she served it into bowls, I consumed the bowl-full as fast as I the small spoonfuls would allow. She smiled and gave me another serving. I took it greedily and it was only in the coming weeks that I'd realised how grateful I should have been that she'd given me an extra serving. She could barely afford such desires as extra servings as it was. She was dirt poor. So when I started my new job the following day and got paid at the end of the week, I gave her what money I could afford to give her out of my wages. There wasn't much left for me, but I helped her while she helped me. That made me happy. She also gave me a nickname to call me by. 'Young One' she called me.

* * *

 **Author's note: Hey guys! Xmas tomorrow! Who else is hyped? Don't forget two more chapters tomorrow. Catch you all then.**


	2. Chapter 2

II

As the weeks passed, I worked hard and got the small chunks of metal called 'money' in return. I helped out around the house as much as I could and the old woman was grateful for the opportunity to relax. I was more than happy to help out how I could. As I worked and she sat in a chair, she would tell me tales of great heroes and adventures. Some were true, others were mere fantasy but were as entertaining as the stories that were true. In time, I learned that she was what is called a 'seer.' A person who can have occasional glances at the future. I got the feeling that it was no accident she met me on my first night here, and that she knew my future. But she never mentioned anything and I never asked.

* * *

My job was in construction. While I had no understanding of how to build the large structures of these lands, I was told where to lift construction materials and where to place them. At first, it was just light buckets of things that had to be taken from one side of the yard to the other. Then, as they realised my strength, and steadily increased the weight of what I had to carry until I was carrying entire logs of timber by myself. I began to become quiet useful to the construction team and some even began to look at me with some degree of respect. They knew they'd always be superior to me in society, but in the construction yard, my advantages were obvious. So one day, when I took a quick break to drink, the main in the smart outfit who offered me the job came down to the yard to see the progress of the build and he was yelling at why I wasn't doing anything and why I was being allowed the chance to 'laze around.' He seemed pretty furious. So of course I was asked to help out, so I picked up the closest log, hefted it onto my shoulder, and walked with it easily over to where the work was taking place. I'm fairly certain the smartly dressed man's jaw dropped. Needless to say he offered me a different kind of job, which would be suited to my 'skills' and my strength. The pay was better, and I thought that the old seer would be proud if I brought in more money for us, so I took the job without even thinking about the consequences. I continued with my regular job for the remainder of the work day, but I was told to tell no-one of my new promotion and to report directly to my boss the following morning. I didn't understand why, but I obeyed and didn't tell a soul. Not even the old woman, but judging from her reaction to me that evening, she knew something. Needless to say, she didn't mention anything or act any different than normal, so I didn't bring it up.

The next day, I arrived at work early and reported straight to my boss' office. There to greet me at the door was a big brute of a man dressed all in black with a large scar running from the corner of his mouth to just below the chin. He was perhaps twice my size but he looked slow and easy to beat if you could stay out of his way. Needless to say, I told him "I'm here to see the boss and he opened the door for me to enter. As I walked into my boss' office, he walked in behind me and shut and locked the door. The entire time my boss spoke to me, I listened but remained acutely aware of the big man's presence behind me.

"So, you will no longer have to work in the yard, but your job will be roaming the streets and carrying out the specific tasks I give you, but you will always report here." He told me.

I nodded my head in agreement.

"My friend here," he gestured to the man behind me, "will go with you on this first run, so you can see how it's done. After today, though, you will be on your own. Be aware that many people do not approve of this task and if you are caught and arrested, we've never met. Understand?"

Again, I nodded. With a wave of his hand, he gestured for me and the brute to leave him and we walked out into the cold winter morning chill. The brute of the man pulled his black coat tighter against him to shield himself from the cold, whereas I pulled the hat the seer had given me further down on my head.

"Follow me" the man said, his voice gruff.

Dutifully, I followed.

* * *

After several minutes walking, we stopped outside a house and waited, the man leaning against the wall, his hat pulled low to cover his eyes. After almost half an hour of waiting in the bitter cold, a man emerged from the house and rushed down the steps from his front door, slipping slightly from the ice, and walked quickly down the street. Clearly he was in some kind of rush. He wore a brown coat and a lighter shade of brown trousers. His hat was a dull grey, as was his shirt, and small, half-moon spectacles balanced on his nose. Without a word, the brute followed him and I jogged ever couple of paces to meet the brute's larger stride. We followed the man for some time before he walked down a small side path. Grass stood tall and overgrown on both sides and the area was sparse and deserted. It was there that the man slowed his pace and the brute laid a massive hand on his shoulder. The man seemed startled when the hand rested on his shoulder, but recognised what it meant almost immediately and resigned himself to his fate.

"You owe my boss money." The brute whispered threateningly. "It's time to pay up."

"B- but I d- d- don't have the m- money yet." The man replied timidly, on the verge of sobbing.

The brute turned the man to face him and pushed him effortlessly against a wall.

"Not good enough." The brute grinned.

Before the man could even realise what the grin meant, the meaty fist of the hulking man drove into his gut, winding him and forcing him to double over from the impact. As the air was driven out of the man, the brute whacked his elbow into the man's back, forcing him to the ground. There, the brute viciously stomped on the man. The savaged attack continued as the brute looked over and me and spoke to me for the first time since we left the yard.

"You gonna sit there all day and watch butterflies or what?"

Hesitantly, I walked over to the man and joined in the kicking and the stomping. I didn't understand. 'What had this man done wrong?' Now, though, I understand completely. I know why we were paid to do that. Money. Greed. Power. The thing everyone fears yet everyone dreams of. Those three things which were the destruction of this world.

* * *

After the man lay on the edge of consciousness, the brute threatened him one last time before we left.

"You have three days. Find that money, or say goodbye to your family."

With that, he smashed his oversized boots into the man's face, breaking his nose and pushing him into unconsciousness.

* * *

I was naïve back then. I hated what I did, but I never said no. I never questioned my boss why. I never protested. I just did it. It wasn't the most glorious job in the world, but it paid well and I could finally support the seer who had taken me in, and repay my debt to her, tenfold. I always wondered if she knew what I did each day. Since I started that promotion, she seemed to act colder towards me. She still cooked when I was going to return later, she still washed the clothes, she still cared for me, but the time when we could sit for hours and talk were gone. I was too tired after a long day's work to chat anyway, so I would always retreat to bed not long after supper. I noticed physical changes in her too. Her hair had always been white and ragged, but as the days passed, it became longer and more untamed. It was on a cold evening in November when we finally spoke once more. When she finally confronted me about my job.

"Young one, we must talk." She said as I walked through the front door. Thrown off, I hesitated before placing my hat on a small table and following her through the room and sat down in the chair next to her.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Time grows thin for me." She sighed, "Before I pass from this world in search of a better place, I want to tell you something that I have known for some time. I… knew of your arrival here."

I stared at her for several seconds, confused before she continued.

"We seers are often cast out of society, branded witches and freaks. Many do not believe in our powers and many are right. But there are some of us who truly see into the possible future. I am one such seer. I foresaw your arrival, and I knew of the event that changed your life, forever."

With this, she grabbed my arm and softly stroked the snake tattoo that resided there. The snake seemed to shiver slightly as she did this.

"The artefact you found. It is an object of great power. There are many such artefacts in this world, left for us by people who came before people." She explained.

"Wait." I cut her off, seizing my arm back from her frail grip. "People before people? You're speaking in riddles. I don't understand."

"There are many who can't. It does not matter. Simply know that there are other powerful objects like this. All are tremendously dangerous in the wrong hands. Even now, you have yet to master this artefact's uses. You know of some of its powers and you use those, but its true potential has yet to reveal itself to you."

"When will it be revealed? Am I not ready yet?"

"That is for the artefact to decide. The artefact will show you all it knows, in time. When you unlock its full power, you will become unstoppable, if you choose to be."

"Choose?"

"Nothing is certain. There are many possible futures. Which one we arrive at depends on our choices. Our choices may alter the future for centuries to come. Even the smallest things can have the biggest impact."

"If there are different possibilities for different futures, how did you know for certain that I would arrive here?"

"I didn't." she admitted. "Before you arrived, I had a horrible vision of you drowning at sea, but in the future you arrived here, the whole future of the world changed for the better. I wasn't going to leave it to chance that you would arrive here and I would not be here to guide you."

"Guide?"

"There are two important factions at work, behind the scenes. For generations they have fought over the powerful objects that you possess one of. One seeks freedom, and the other seeks to control the world. There are futures where you join either one of those factions, and the choice will ultimately always be yours. I am here to guide you so you may make a decision for yourself which future you choose. If you choose one of them, they will succeed and they will conquer the world, controlling everyone and everything. You will be rich and famous beyond belief. You would live a comfortable life."

"That sounds like everything I'd ever want."

"But," she warned, "Should you join the other faction, then you give the world hope. You will not live an easy life and you will be almost constantly on the run. You will help that faction but the ones who seek control will constantly have you against the ropes until the end of time. Nowhere will be safe for you and you will never win."

"That sounds hopeless."

"You will never be famous or rich, and people will never even know you existed but the people will fight for the same cause you do. You will inspire thousands within the secret order and you will give them hope, even when no such hope exists. You will be the only reason they survive."

* * *

We sat for some time, not saying a word. The seer let me consider my options while I pondered for ages on the choice that lay before me. Riches and fame, or saving the world from tyranny? How could I possibly decide? In the end, events made the choice for me. I found that I had no say in the matter. The seer was wrong. Some things are certain.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Merry Christmas everyone! I hope everyone's day is super!**


	3. Chapter 3

III

Now, I hated my work, but I never protested or never even said a word. I was making money. Good money. I had recently paid a large sum of it to pay for a second level on our house. My boss offered to get the company to do at a discounted cost, thanks to my continued 'service' to the company. Within two days, it was done. The old seer, while approving of my kindness to better her home, felt the space was un-necessary, so we moved everything to upstairs, reconfigured the wall plan on the ground floor and converted it to a tavern. We bought fresh ale from local brewers and we could afford fine food from the farmers to serve to our customers. We made an agreement, me and the seer. She would tend our tavern in the day while I worked, and I could tend it in the night, where it would presumably be the busiest. On the day we were setting up the tavern, we pondered while me worked for a name for it. At the end of the day, the seer came to me, proclaiming she had found a perfect name. She said we should name it after a future. _My_ future. She said we should name it The Black Cobra. My arm approved.

* * *

Business was slow at first. On the first night, it was practically empty, until our first customer cautiously poked his head inside. Carefully at first, he tried some of our ale, wary that even after I spent many years here, I was still a stranger in this land. But after his first sip, his eyes went wide and he hastily gulped down more. After his first tankard, he pulled coins out of his pocket, taking what he had over-paid, and dashed out of the tavern. This was confusing but after several minutes, he returned, walking in more confidently now and leading a sizeable crowd of men. They all sat down and he practically begged them all to try the ale and I spent the next minute dashing back and forth bringing handfuls of tankards of ale. They absolutely loved our ale. Our ale was pure, not watered down like the other taverns who were trying to make as much profit as possible. Ours was the best ale around. Within that first night, we had made over one hundred pieces of gold and every night after that, business was booming. It was quiet but still serving in the day, but night was where most of our money came from. Before long, so much money was pouring in that we had to buy more tables and chairs for our customers, but still we struggled for room. We had more money than we would ever need, and we didn't know what to do with it all. We'd already greatly improved the house and the tavern, I'd treated the seer to whatever I could find that she liked and I'd bought myself a fine set of clothes worthy of a gentleman of class. We were making so much money from the tavern that I decided to leave my job at the construction firm. My (former) boss didn't take that news too well.

* * *

"You what?!" he screamed at me, smacking his hands onto the table as he stood from his chair, which was sent skittering back.

"I want to leave my job, to tend my tavern full time." I replied calmly.

"I see." He said as he walked around the desk and behind my chair. The vein in his forehead was still visibly bulging.

"Sir, if it's okay with y-" I was cut off.

"No it is not ok with me!" He screamed. "Why do you have to leave?! To run a pathetic little tavern?"

He had made his way around my chair and his desk now and sat back down in his chair. He spoke to me again, softly this time.

"Look, you're a good, hard worker. You have no idea how much money you made me. How much more money do you want? I'm offering you a raise. In return, you stay working for me."

"I'm sorry." I replied. "But it's not about the money for me."

He sighed as he gave in. He walked me to the door of his office but before I could leave, he placed a hand on my shoulder, pulled me close and whispered in my ear.

"Be careful. I hear houses in that area can be quite flammable."

I snapped at the threat and in one fluid movement, I shook his hand off my shoulder, spun around and pinned him to his desk with my forearm against his neck. My tattoo writhed in anticipation of killing him. I leaned in close and it was my turn to threaten him.

"If something happens to my home, you can guarantee that I'll come looking for you, and I will kill you."

Fighting the temptation from my arm to kill him, I released him and he slumped, spluttering, against the desk. I stormed out in a foul mood.

* * *

For two years, nothing happened. There were no attacks of revenge against me, the seer, or our tavern. There were no death threats. I didn't hear a word from my boss. I assumed he'd forgotten about me. It would have been for the best.

I was eighteen now. I was popular amongst our patrons and I now wore finery every day. I was becoming somewhat wealthy. Be expanded and bought the house next door. We converted the basement into a place we could store all of our goods, we converted the second floor to an even bigger living space and we knocked an arch into the wall separating the two buildings on the ground floor, making the bar bigger. Despite being different, I was well loved and I made sure that all my patrons were happy. I had become a god among men. The seer was in a state of constantly declining health and she struggled to move around so she spent most of her days stranded in bed while I took over the day shift. It was one such evening that I had to close the tavern, much to the dismay of our customers, because the seer had acquired a nasty cough and I had to leave, seeking medicine.

As I walked down the quiet streets, passing the occasional drunk, I heard a scream coming from a distant. The sound seemed to bounce around the streets and I couldn't make out where it had come from. I closed my eyes and focused my senses. Again, a scream rang out, and I knew which direction it had come from. Opening my eyes, I dashed toward the sound and after I while, I found an alley where the screams had originated from. There in front of me was a group of five men acting rather inappropriately towards a small group of three attractive girls on the floor. The girls' dresses had been torn and one had her dress torn higher up, exposing her undergarments and her corset. I knew I had to help them, but I didn't want to expose my face. Finding the only native American in England wouldn't be very hard, even for a simpleton. I pulled the collar of my coat up and pulled my hat low, concealing most of my face. I walked out of the shadows and confronted the men.

"Hey!" I yelled, making my voice go as deep as possible.

"F*ck off mate before we cave yer skull in!" One of them yelled back.

I continued to walk towards them.

"We're warning you." Another called.

I dashed towards them and before they could react, my fist connected with one of their faces. The rage and brute strength behind the blow sent him flying and I felt his jaw break in the path of my fist. While he was still momentarily airborne, I dived forward and tackled another, my shoulder forcing the wind out of his gut. Unfortunately, my time here had slowed my reactions and my moves had become less fluid as time passed. I had descended from being a hunter to being nothing more than a common brawler. So before I could rise, two of the men started raining down kicks and stomps on me, while the third man went back to messing with the girls. Enraged further, I launched to my feet, against the blows and tried to strike back. I was rewarded with a kick in the ribs for my effort. Now the two men held one of my arms each while the third man turned his attention back to me and started punching me in the head and I was powerless to defend myself. I saw one of the girls as my vision started to black out at the edges. She was the one with her corset exposed. Her eyes were full of pity and fear as she looked into my eyes. She looked so innocent. I wouldn't let those men have their way with her. I wouldn't! I felt a new power course through my veins and before I realised what was happening, two fangs sprouted from the palm of my hand, from the mouth of the cobra, and stabbed the man holding that arm. He leapt back in pain and started convulsing on the ground as the poison rapidly worked its way into his bloodstream. He started frothing at the mouth as the other two men looked on in shock and fear. I seized the opportunity before I missed it and swung that hand around, palm open, at the second guy and the fangs caught him in the neck. He clutched at his neck as the venom ran into the wound. Before long, he too was dying on the floor alongside his friend. The two I had attacked first were still unconscious on the ground. This left only one man left, the one who had continually punched me. He was currently on his knees, looking up at me, pleading for his life. I weighed my options. I could kill him and never have to worry about him doing this again, but that left his two unconscious friends clueless at what happened and they would probably do it again at some point. Or I could spare this man and risk him trying this again, but at the same time, he could warn his friends and they may stop attempting this. After a few moments, I had decided. I walked over to him, picked him off the ground by his collar and looked him square in the eyes.

"Listen here. You will never do this again and you will make sure none of your friends ever try this again as well, else…" I pulled my hand back, ready to strike him. I let the threat hang for several seconds. "Understand?"

He nodded quickly and enthusiastically.

"Remember to warn them. Remember that when you wake up." I growled.

I felt the fangs slide back into my skin and I brought my hand forward. The open-palmed strike broke his nose and he lost consciousness. I stood triumphant over the five men and I looked over at the three girls. Two were cowering in fear still, but the third, again the one with the corset, looked me dead in the eyes, her fear gone. At that moment, a strong breeze blew and my hat, which had been loosened by the fight, fluttered off my head. I hastily pulled it down low, but my face had been exposed for the briefest of seconds. Without another word, I dashed away into the night. She watched me run away.

* * *

A week passed and I put the events in the alley behind me. But I didn't forget what was important. I noticed my lack of speed and I trained myself again whenever I could spare some time. It was approaching evening exactly one week after the fight that I had a new customer walk through my doors. She was a sweet little jewel with a fair, loving face. She wore a scarlet dress with a black coat hanging lightly on her small, framed shoulders. On her face was a light trace of makeup and her curves caused several patrons to show their approval with several wolf whistles. Upon seeing me behind the counter, she walked smoothly over, even her walk was captivating.

"How can I help you, ma'am?" I said, nervously.

She smiled a dazzlingly charming smile and I was entranced by her.

"I would like to buy the barman a drink." She said in a voice like velvet with a subtle wink to accompany it.

She peered into my eyes for some time she spoke again.

"Do you really not remember?"

I had to take a step back. Some fixed clothing and a little bit of makeup had done her well. The girl with the corset looked better than last week.


End file.
